Rainbow Spectrum
by Listening to trees
Summary: REWRITTEN: A series of KHR drabbles; ranging from yaoi to gen and het. Individual pairings, ratings and summaries etc. inside.
1. Invulnerable (D18)

**Title: Invulnerable **

**Pairing: Dino x Hibari**

**Genre: Introspective/ gen**

**Rating: PG**

**Summary: A study of Hibari; and perhaps, an unrealised change within himself.**

* * *

.

Boy on the skin; beast in his bones. Hibari Kyoya. Neither part could exist without the other; so he became both simultaneously even before he discarded his toys.

And no animal with pride would enjoy feeling caged or bound. It left oneself too vulnerable; too prone to attacks; limiting the radius in which tooth and claw could defend. In the event where all the worst possibilities aggregated, death was a surety.

Perhaps that was how the terror of Namimori arrived at his apparent emotional blankness: His dislike and wariness for the slightest suggestion of constriction had digested all else. Compared to his need to be _free_, any remnant of an ability to feel attachment was immaterial.

Thus it was predetermined; that he could and _would_ never be tied down by the farce the weaklings worshipped as love.

What he had overlooked was that whenever he wished the sun-haired sometimes-herbivore would just _learn_ to give up, his agitation and the things it said (what he wouldn't say) gave his pursuer every reason to _hope_.

.

* * *

(Owari)


	2. Christened (3359)

**Title: Christened **

**Pairing: Ryohei x Gokudera**

**Genre: Introspective/ angst**

**Rating: PG**

**Summary: The genius in two missteps; though the second may be an improvement.**

* * *

_._

_to christen: to give (a baby) a Christian name at baptism_

_._

* * *

The sum of Gokudera Hayato was hard and brittle.

But truthfully, it was never his choice to be. One just didn't expect any other result when they'd been beaten down by life so many times that they'd yet to fully recover. The hasty patching-ups he'd experienced recently only made for emotional scars; half –healed wounds that were ready to inflame at the slightest probe, and this was made worse by all the kindness and sensitivity they gave that he knew not how to handle. All his appearances at sociability had merely been the drawing of makeshift skin over the places where chunks of his heart had been scooped out; it could not return the bits of him that had been robbed. And to him, the abysmal despair was still very real, that he will one day hurt again, again; _again_; those who dared grace his hungry soul with their warmth.

Therein lay his paradox: his intelligence had already pinpointed his mother's tragedy as the source of his turmoil. But his emotional mind could not let go.

So Gokudera would give to his Sky with a vengeance; promising that his heart will never otherwise belong. He has sensed that as empathic, loving and gentle as his wondrous Juudaime could be, he will never reciprocate those feelings with the same painful, searing intensity that coloured everything Gokudera felt. He just _couldn't_. And that was for the best.

All the Storm Guardian's plans went out the window the day he realised what the boxing idiot, who had been so _non-threatening_ all this time, was really saying each time he likened him to an octopus.

And what he himself had meant when he replied with his own tailor-made sobriquet.

* * *

.

(Owari)


	3. Love-hate (S80)

**Title: Love-Hate**

**Pairing: Squalo x Yamamoto**

**Genre: Angst/ drama, gen**

**Rating: K+**

**Summary: If love and hatred are the same two sides, this is how Yamamoto flips the coin.**

* * *

.

Yamamoto really loathes the rain.

He despises the way it disrupts his baseball games. And every time it rained, there would always be less customers for Takezushi, with the few who came in wet and bedraggled; more interested in waiting out the drizzle than in eating anago*. Even if it was the freshest, most meticulously-prepared this side of Namimori.

Before his short-tempered Italian friend had first tasted heartbreak, his own mother had left him for another man. And no amount of desperate crying, shouting and stuttered offers –that he'll be good; he'll never forget his homework; he'll put on his shoes properly and eat all of his vegetables– had brought back her and her love. As he stood in the rain, immovable; he would eventually realise that from then on, this sort of light downpour was the only motherly caress he would ever know.

Then, somewhere around the age of thirteen, he found that all he had left was really an uncle. Suddenly it becomes too painfully clear; why his mother denied him the chance to become the man in their little household: for what woman could stand a lifetime of raw widowhood living with her dead husband's loyal twin? This time, nobody could stop him from running off; nobody could grab hold of him and drag him in despite his struggles. The man he'd lived with had coached his reflexes too well.

But when he dragged his rain-soaked body home, finally too empty to be resentful; Yamamoto Tsuyoshi was still his father. Still waiting, having immediately closed shop; to dry him with reprimands firm and soft, to prepare his warm bath and feed him his favourite soup. Still strong and awkward; and so smiled radiantly and worked his best into these small, routine things to support him. Not knowing he'd surpassed the need for words.

Somehow, the air was once again breathable.

It had been essentially raining when he'd first fought Squalo– had_ truly _fought Squalo– and saw, from across their clashing steel, the radiant, _grinning _eyes of the shark. The inborn hitman instantly _saw; _how an ordinary baring of teeth could be so base and so full of predator that bloodlust had utterly supplanted its friendly, primary function. And, as if something dormant in him had been waiting for this moment, his worldview had metamorphosed.

It was the rain which underlined how he could repay his friends; giving himself in a way they doubtlessly would. It was in the rain where he first kissed the great-white, neck hovering over his sword; and discovered why no one else had ever made him feel like a bewitched fool.

And Yamamoto Takeshi loves the rain.

* * *

.

(Owari)

* * *

*anago- Japanese saltwater eel. Usually simmered for sushi.


	4. Gambit (6996)

**Title: Gambit **

**Pairings: Mukuro x Chrome**

**Genre: semi-dark, introspective/ gen**

**Rating: PG-13 for Mukuro's faintly sadistic POV**

**Summary: They dance in a delicate parry, and even he cannot tell how the dice will land.**

* * *

.

Gambit _(in chess): an opening move in which a player makes a sacrifice, typically of a pawn, for the sake of a compensating advantage_

_._

* * *

Mukuro didn't need anyone to tell him that he was a dark and sick person.

More than that, he was outright insane. He supposed cultivating a mirror image of himself out of a hapless, broken little bird only served to prove that point; as well as the depths of his narcissism. But since when had he ever cared about what anyone thought of him anyway? It wasn't as if the present company he associated himself with had much in the way of normal. If they could all fall for men, then he sure as hell could fall for himself.

Besides, wasn't his female double just _adorable_? He swore, he would never get sick of admiring her.

At the frail hands that grew strong to bear the heaving weight of his trident; the torso that _ran _unthinkingly past the limits of those with bona fide organs. At the heart that kept him deliciously entertained with all its naiveté, and eyes that would know him; but not be corrupted by disgust even as the whole world roared its condemnation or twisted adulation.

Any stellar illusionist can spot a cloaked demon. But there is only one he knows who would sit down and tend to it with docile acceptance.

Some days, Mukuro's skin just pebbles with _thrill _when he remembers that even his thousand years of impartiality cannot confirm which of them will end up captured. That one day, he himself could also trace that politely detached back with his eyes just one more time, and become unable to turn.

Some days, he almost concedes his apathy at the fair chance he has already lost his resistance.

* * *

.

(Owari)

.

* * *

A/N: Thousand years; because the concept of time is just wonky to someone who's drifted through the reincarnation cycles so long that he's gained six badass skills in there. The way I see it, his soul may be on this plane now (the canon present), but he probably remembers living and dying as different people in the past –and future.

Talk about major mind-screwage. He's just that much of a Magnificent Bastard. ;D


	5. Virgin (S80)

**Title: Virgin (or The Lamb)**

**Pairing: TYL!Squalo x Yamamoto**

**Genre: Angst, romance**

**Rating: PG-15 for sexual implications**

**Summary: On the sullying of both Yamamoto's mental and physical purity. A semi-poem in Squalo's POV.**

* * *

.

**Theme song: En La Mar –Cecilé Corbel**

* * *

.

This isn't Takeshi. This isn't.

This is the _kozo_.

This is the baseball brat;

With years' worth

Of uncured immaturity

In his grip on his sword.

This is the _child_;

With no bitterness or guilt

Tainting his resolve.

This is the half-assed wastrel;

Not fit to own a name, or call

Out those of his elegant strokes.

His ungrateful eyes will still

Watch your swordplay demos

Minus the zeal he has for homeruns;

His palms will still hold

A mafioso's responsibility (burden)

Off

A little longer.

.

.

(They will still hold

The sincerity in his smile together.)

.

.

This is the _boy_ you forgot.

.

.

How bright and vulnerable his naiveté;

(how fragile)

How _sick_ you were of his idiocy;

His audacity

And his willingness

To expect a good future;

And that; that fucking _annoying_ laughter;

Ringing and

_Ringing_ through your eardrums;

(your very fibre;

like)

.

.

(steel in the thick blue of summer)

.

.

(even if it becomes a lie;

Very

Soon

After.)

.

.

Yet he does not; will not lose these

Before the first hundred kisses;

That much you remember.

There are still

The first hundred times he's shared your bed

To go;

'til the meet of his thighs become familiar.

Familiar enough, bold enough;

Relaxed enough,

To take this kind of pounding –

For now, it isn't.

.

.

For now his muscles stutter

From shocks of alien sensation;

For now, the flush on his face is

Sugared with mortification.

For now he gasps with

As much surprise as pleasure;

And his grasp gains a piercing strength from

Pain and inexperience.

(And)

.

.

And as he pants, his eyes reach for yours

In sickeningly sweet imploration.

.

(In adulation)

.

(Like they are transforming you

Into something profound

With a touch that beggars a Master's.)

.

.

(and you hate him for seeing a connection

Between the both of you

That you can't;

Oh how you _hate _him even more.)

.

.

This is the boy you forgot;

Whose body still behaves

Like a love song.

(your love song)

Who will still look at you too often,

When he thinks you are distracted.

(yours.)

And till that day he was forced to slaughter

For your moment of

Carelessness,

You'd begun to believe that

You'd _always _have to

Endure (You'd always have) his

_Maddening_

_._

_._

_._

radiance.

.

.

.

(But now you know

There are only a hundred times left to go.

And this must be _relief _you feel; not; not –)

.

.

(Sorrow.)

.

.

(Because he can't have

Smoothed away your edges;

Or filled the shape of your soul.)

.

.

You watch him sleep;

Thick eyelashes curving

Against the knuckle you've extended.

You remember Takeshi,

The man who took his place;

And almost consider:

.

.

(If taking all _this_ away

Will be worth his duty

To their Family; and

Survival.)

* * *

.

(Owari)

.

***Masters**- the Renaissance Masters. Leonardo, Titian, Raphael, Botticelli, etc.

The alternate title, '**The Lamb**', is of course a biblical allusion to something innocent and good -that is placed on the sacrificial altar.

.

* * *

A/N:

Sorry about the vagueness. The idea was to have Yamamoto give _both_ his first time and first kill to Squalo; the latter being a very defining moment in differentiating 14YO! Yamamoto from his TYL!self. We see things from TYL!Squalo's POV; straight after he takes 14YO!Yamamoto's virginity, somewhere in the Future Arc. He's recalling how he became indirectly responsible for sullying the teenager's emotional and mental purity as well; how Yamamoto was not much older than this version that Squalo'd just fucked when he killed his first man to save Squalo. Some part of his innocence and inner brilliance dies then, but Squalo really doesn't get the magnitude of that loss. In fact, he tries to tell himself that this was inevitable; a natural passage in Mafia life. So it never bothered him –until he meets the boy again, the brat who had yet to taint his soul; and remembers how iridescent his lover used to be.

Now I have this very vivid image of Squalo as Yamamoto's first love…


	6. The Talk (3359)

Getting too damn busy with assignments this and next week; but here's a rewrite of this old fic I had. :)

* * *

**Title: The ….Talk (or A Test Run)**

**Pairing: 3359, mild X27**

**Genre: Fluff, humour (?), family/ possible m-preg**

**Rating: PG13 for the f-bomb**

**Summary: What happens when you explain Vongola rules to a couple of hyperactive four-year-olds; and throw their madcap excuse for parents into the mix. (And they hadn't even reached the birds and bees yet. **

**Lord help us indeed.)**

* * *

.

.

.

"…to the EXTREME! Right, kids?"

"To the EXTREME!" They both chorused cheerily. Tsuna sighed and rubbed his forehead. This was NOT working the way it was supposed to (but did it ever?). Sometimes, he really wondered if whatever fates governed this sort of thing could've made them less like their simplistic father.

(And then he'd watch Gokudera pull out bricks of dynamite on a taunting Belphegor, and thank the heavens they weren't more like their other parent.)

"But what if we had to choose only _one _Sun Guardian?" He posed. He hated to break the bubble for the twins this early, but Reborn had said the sooner they faced reality the better; and he agreed. A tactful execution would help lessen the chances for any intra-famiglia diputes in the future.

"That's ok," Asaki piped up. "We could take turns."

"Yeah!" Rosmarina chimed in. "Asa-chan can be the Sun Guardian for one year and I can be the Sun Guardian for the next!" "Yeah!" Her twin agreed enthusiastically. "Then we can all be Sun Guardians!" "That's EXTREMEEEE!" –followed by a fist in the air.

Tsuna sweatdropped. "Onii-san….." He suspected Ryohei hadn't entirely grasped the gravity of the situation; but before the Vongola Decimo could open his mouth again, his Storm Guardian, who couldn't stand to watch anymore, cut in.

"Oi! Didn't what Jyuudaime said get through your thick head _at all_, muscle brains?! We can't have _two_ temporary Sun Guardians! There's just has to be a permanent one and that's it!

And stop misleading our kids!"

"But why _can't_ there be two Sun Guardians, papà?" The girl queried.

"Yeah!" The boxer exclaimed; showing every sign of support. And thus it came to the point there were _three_ expectant pairs of child-like, curious eyes fixed on Gokudera Hayato.

Tsuna sweatdropped once more. _He's actually swept away by the idea of a four-year-old… _

"Because," their usually articulate victim, cough; _explainer_ sputtered, "Because it's fucking tradition!"

"LANGUAGE, Gokudera!" Tsuna cried in shock. His silver-haired friend was offering some very stricken apologies when one of the pair (who'd gotten their heads knocked together in Ryohei's clumsy attempt to cover their ears) answered innocently: "It's okay. Your _boyfriend_ says it a lot more." This time it was Tsuna's turn to stutter. He knew Xanxus was foul-mouthed; but he had expected the man to at least rein in his vocabulary in front of the children!

He was going to have words with him later.

In the end, it had taken a whole five hours peppered with exuberant cries of "To the Extreme!" and Gokudera's ill-concealed threats –to _no avail._ As he massaged his thoroughly assaulted ears, the famed and respected don contemplated wearily on the fact that he'd have to try again later.

Much, much later.

* * *

.

.

.

(Owari)

* * *

A/N:

1.** Rosmarina**- feminine form of 'Rosmarino'; Italian for 'rosemary'. Also known as the herb of remembrance. Full name: Gokudera Rosmarina. (So basically Gokudera named his daughter in the memory of his mother.) The older twin.

2. **Asaki** (旭輝) –Japanese for 'radiance of the morning sun'. My alternate choice would've been 'Kagaya' (輝), or 'radiance/ brilliance'. Full name: Sasagawa Asaki. (Though he may not necessarily be as idiotic as Ryohei. Which name do you think would have been a better fit?)


End file.
